


The Cook

by Pink_Tinted_Monocle



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Fluff, M/M, thomas hamilton headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_Tinted_Monocle/pseuds/Pink_Tinted_Monocle
Summary: Thomas had always enjoyed good food, although he hadn’t always appreciated it.





	The Cook

**Author's Note:**

> Post finale domestic bliss fluff :)
> 
> Also for any experiencing deja vu ,yes, this is a repost - I mucked up the tags the first time I posted so it didn't pull through to tumblr, so I'm hoping second time lucky!

Thomas had always enjoyed good food, although he hadn’t always appreciated it.

Rich dishes and exotic flavours were part and parcel of belonging to the aristocracy, and it was only when he found himself choking on stagnant gruel in Bedlam that he realised how much he had once taken for granted.

Meals at the plantation were a marked improvement, but they were largely bland and Thomas soon found himself craving more texture and taste.  He asked the owner if he would be allowed to assist with food preparation and when the request was granted Thomas threw himself into the task.  It was trial and error at first and many of his early attempts were received poorly, but Thomas stuck at it and soon found that he had quite a flair for cooking.  He was allowed to keep a small herb garden and as his confidence grew so did the depth and complexity of the dishes he attempted.  It was immensely satisfying to see his efforts appreciated by his fellow inmates and the distraction provided by the additional work helped to dull his grief, if only a little.

After James had found him and they had broken free of the plantation they moved from place to place, eating when they could, before they settled in a small village where the locals didn’t ask too many questions.  It was a quiet, simple life and within a few months Thomas had not only grown a new herb garden in the grounds of their cottage, but had also planted vegetables and the odd fruit tree.

With more time and a greater choice of ingredients, Thomas’ dishes became increasingly intricate.  He spent hours in their tiny kitchen, lost in an abundance of aromas and flavour, concocting meals for himself and James as well as their new neighbours.  Soon he had a reputation in the village and when the cook at the local tavern retired he was offered his job, which he gladly accepted.

Life was idyllic, save for one small flaw.  For every time anyone referred to Thomas as ‘The Cook’, which the villagers often did, James would flinch as if in pain from an old wound that had suddenly flared up. 

Thomas knew that James’ hadn’t told him everything about his decade spent as a pirate.  He was aware of the important things; Miranda, the events in Charles Town, Woodes Rogers deal with the Spanish, but he knew very little of James’ personal life in those ten years.  He was aware that James had had some sort of relationship with the pirate know as Long John Silver and that Silver had been directly responsible for their reunion at the plantation, but James always seemed reluctant to discuss it and Thomas didn’t want to push him into talking about it if he wasn’t ready.  Yet it bothered Thomas that James could be so affected by two words and he had no idea why.  What else had happened to James in their time apart?

One night, a few years after they had settled into their new lives, Thomas decided to broach the subject.  He prepared a meal of roasted pork with a rich red wine to accompany it and a moist lemon cake for dessert.  After they had eaten he and James’ curled up together in the overstuffed armchair by the fire, full of good food and feeling a little tipsy.

Thomas ran a hand slowly down James’ torso, enjoying the contrast of the firm muscle at this chest and the slight softness around his stomach.

“It bothers you”, he said.  “When people call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“The Cook”.

James sat up suddenly and Thomas nearly toppled off the chair.

“What makes you think it bothers me?” James asked defensively as he pulled Thomas back into a sitting position.

Thomas arched an eyebrow. “That reaction alone indicates that it has some effect on you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“That’s clearly not true.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Thomas tentatively asked “Is it about Mr Silver?”

James nodded slowly.

“What was he like? 

James scoffed in response.  “He was a little shit.  Told everyone he was a cook just for a place on the crew, although he’d never cooked anything in his life.  Nearly poisoned half my men with a raw pig once.”

Thomas settled against James chest, pleased that they were finally having this conversation. 

“Tell me how you met.”

James sighed deeply but continued.  “It all started when we took control of a merchant vessel that possessed a schedule for a Spanish galleon, although when we found the Captain’s Log the schedule was missing…”


End file.
